


He Reconsiders Everything He Thought Was Constant

by carswell-thorne-is-my-precious (anonof5puns)



Category: Lunar Chronicles - Marissa Meyer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-03
Updated: 2015-04-03
Packaged: 2018-03-21 03:42:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3676077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anonof5puns/pseuds/carswell-thorne-is-my-precious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oneshot. Cresswell. Carswell Thorne gets his sight back, but first he has to clear some insecurities Cress has about her appearance. Rated T for maybe some making out? Just a bunch of harmless fluff, and in this fic, Cress and Thorne are already dating. Set before Winter, after Fairest?</p>
            </blockquote>





	He Reconsiders Everything He Thought Was Constant

**You can _say_  this set in the same universe as "I Thought You Were My Hero"... basically all you need is that Cress and Thorne have already established a relationship. How they've established it doesn't really matter, but they've probably been dating for about a couple weeks. :P Cress has gotten a bunch more comfortable, and Thorne's been... well, Thorne. **

**Complete fluff. No angst like I Thought You Were My Hero.**

***I have 43 minutes to write this, and I've only written a quarter out on paper... wish me luck***

**I feel like Thorne's really out of character here. Just saying. :P (I haven't gotten a handle of his character yet, so please cut me some slack)**

[[MORE]]

"Cress," Thorne says, his voice rising in something that he thinks is fear, or worry, even though he shouldn't be afraid right now. He curls on his side a little more and hears Cress let out a soft exhale as she awakens. He doesn't know how to tell her that he can see the reddish-white blob of light under his eyelids. Cress's whispered before, under the gentle probe of his lips against hers, that she's worried for when his sight comes back because she doesn't think she's beautiful enough for him. He doesn’t know how to convince her that she _is_  beautiful, and that he doesn’t even care. 

"Yeah?" Cress asks, jarring Thorne back to the present. He hears the cot beside him rustle a bit and her hand feels for his hand and he grips it tight between his fingers. 

"Cress, it's light outside."

He hears her little intake of breath. "You can see?" And that worry's there underneath her voice. Stars, he hates it.

"I don't know," Thorne says. "I haven't opened my eyes yet. I'm kind of nervous."

Thorne wonders if Cress has forgotten he can hear, because she takes a deep breath and whispers something to herself, pulling Thorne's arm against her face and resting her head on his forearm. He feels her words as he hears her whisper thrumming against his arm. Stars, he can't _wait_  until he can see her, can't _wait_ until he can touch her and _see_  the blush on her cheeks instead of hear it in the octave of her voice, can't wait until he can see her beautiful face instead of just having to feel it against his hands and his mouth. Can’t wait until he’s _all_  here, instead of looking blankly in the direction that he thinks she’s facing in, can’t wait until he’s able to complement her outfits and rake his gaze down her body the way-- 

No. He can’t think that way. Not yet. Instead he thinks about his sight. Maybe he can see now. If he just opens his eyes, he’ll see her, right there... 

"What if being blind is easier to see?"

"It won't be. Don't worry." Her response is nervous-- he can hear it in the little tremor of her voice and the thickness of it. She’s going to cry. 

"Cress, don't be afraid," Thorne says, reaching his other hand over to feel for her face, rubbing at her hair in what he hopes is a soothing fashion. "I'm still gonna like you."

"You're sure?" she asks, and his immediate surge of protectiveness at the fear in her voice startles him. He doesn’t want her to think this way. Doesn’t want her to feel like she’s not enough, because she _is_. She always will be. 

"Don’t you dare think that way,” he says forcefully, and he winces a little at how angry he sounds. He hasn’t even opened his eyes yet but he wants to, wants to see her hair, wants to see her face, wants to see the body that goes with the voice, but he can’t bring himself to open his eyes yet. Not before he’s convinced that she’s not afraid.

“I can’t help but think that way,” Cress whispers, and Thorne shakes his head furiously. 

“Yes you can. C’mere.” He holds his arms out and reaches over for his blindfold, tying it over his eyes. “I’m not gonna open my eyes yet. Just come here.”

She rolls a little onto his cot, her legs tangling lightly with his and her arms coming around his neck, and Thorne grins toothily at her, reaching his neck forward to look for her lips with his mouth. He misses and kisses her chin, and then Cress grabs his head and holds it tight, bringing her lips up to find his. 

And it’s her kisses that tell him that he’s down for the count, because her lips are all exploring and testing new waters and _trying_ that they send jolts down to the bottoms of his toes, every twist of her lips drives a stake deeper and deeper into his heart. Stars, if something happened to her he wouldn’t know what to do with himself. 

And it scares Thorne, because this is exactly what he’s been trying to avoid all his life. He’s been trying to avoid the attachment that puts him stuck down in one place, trying to avoid the infatuation that causes him to lose his cool and get distracted from what he really wants, that causes him to lose his vision on what he truly wants.

But what _does_  he truly want? he thinks, as Cress tilts her head and he can’t help but smile against her mouth as he wraps both arms around her waist to pull her closer. He had that life of crime before, but now, after all of this... he doesn’t really want it anymore. It would feel empty. 

And then he’s jolted back to the present because _stars Cress is biting his lip_ and he feels a groan push out of his mouth before he can control it and he is _here_ , with Cress entangled in his arm and her lips tight against his and _this_ , this is what he wants. However she looks. He doesn’t care anymore, he _has_  to see her. 

While he grins against her mouth yet again and kisses her harder, slipping his leg between hers, he reaches up carefully and lifts off his blindfold, opening his eyes. 

Cress gasps and breaks the kiss but Carswell groans, half with disappointment and half with elation, because he can’t see her as clearly as he thought he would be able to, but he can _see_  her-- see the blurriest figures, see this cloud of white and yellow and pink and red and blue and beige in his vision that is _Cress_ , sees the muted sunlight that is flooding from behind her, sees the blue and green blob of Earth from their window. 

But he can’t _really_  see her-- he can’t see how long her nose is, how far apart her lips are, can’t see the details in her fingers, or her expression. But he can see _something,_  and it already takes his breath away because she’s so _small_! She’s tinier than she seemed, and he loves it. 

“Thorne?” Cress whispers, afraid, and he shakes his head, staring down at her because he finally _can_ , as little as his vision actually is. He can only see with the middle of his eye-- his peripheral vision is still black, but he’s got _something_. He smiles widely and can’t see any new expressions on her face but sees some movement, and she lets out a relieved sigh. 

“I can’t see you all that well,” he says. “Like, you’re just a big giant fuzzy blob and I can tell that you can see Earth from the window but I can’t really see any details of your face. Were you always this _small_? It’s so adorable!” he says, pulling her by her cheeks to press a loud kiss against her mouth, which he can kind of see because there’s a little reddish-pink smudge in the middle of her face, between her yellow-blonde blobs of hair. 

"Stars, I can’t wait until I can _actually_  see,” he says. “You’re going to be gorgeous.” And Thorne doesn’t know why he does it, but he reaches forward for the golden-blonde hair by her face and pushes it behind her ear, moving forward to kiss her forehead. 

“What if I’m not?”

“You are,” he says. “Whatever you look like, I’ll consider it gorgeous.”

He sees the white flash of her grin, and she reaches between them to grasp his hand tightly in hers. 

**I don’t know where that went. Sorry if it seemed to go WAAAAY off tack. :P I have no idea where I’m going with this. You can find me (and some slightly better fanfic) on tumblr at anonof5puns . tumblr . com!**


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